By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

I wrap my jacket tighter around myself as I walk down the quiet country road.

The weather here isn’t all that different from what we encounter in Chicago, or at least that’s been my experience over the years. But right now, there is none of the spring warmth I left behind and nothing but a winter chill that makes me want to hibernate in front of the log-burning fire I’ve got in the rental I managed to secure at the last minute.

But glutton for punishment, no sooner had I dropped my case in the bedroom, I headed back out to come here.

I knew it would hurt, but then everything about what I’m doing right now does.

Stepping into the airport, and then onto the plane was akin to ripping my own heart straight from my chest.

But at the same time, I know I’m doing the right thing.

The right thing for me and…

I press my trembling hand to my stomach, my breathing getting erratic again as I think about my reality.

By leaving, I’ve sealed my fate.

It’s funny, because I thought I did that the day I signed the contract agreeing to be Kingston’s wife for a year in my father’s office.

I thought that was the thing that would change the trajectory of my life. Well, I guess it has. I can guarantee that I wouldn’t be standing here now, dealing with what I am, if it weren’t for that moment.

If it weren’t for Kingston.

My chest tightens as if someone is wrapping rope around it. It’s been the same since the moment I looked at that notification on my watch yesterday.

Fuck. How was that only yesterday?

Being in Chicago already feels like a lifetime ago.

On unsteady legs, I walk around the corner.

I know what is about to greet me, and while I made the decision to do this, to be here, to see this, now it’s about to happen, I don’t think I’m ready.

How can you be when you know it’s goodbye?

I close my eyes before taking the last step around the corner, and when I open them again, there it is.

The little cottage that means so much to me.

All the air rushes from my lungs and tears burn the backs of my eyes as all the memories I have of this place come rushing back.

I continue forward, my legs weaker than ever.

The front yard is overgrown, the roses that grow up the trellis by the front door uncared for, the bushes out of shape and unloved.

Even the bright red front door is faded and chipped. It’s a far cry from the house of my memories. But while it might be tired, it still has the same heart. I can feel it from here. The magic still exists inside those old, thick, uneven walls.

I continue forward toward the small play park on the other side of the road and take a seat on the bench.

Miles and I used to spend hours over here as kids. Even long after we outgrew it, we’d just sit under the slide and chat about nothing, play games, do all the kinds of things kids do to pass the time. Time that they think moves so slowly.

Why is it that as kids, all we want to do is grow up, but the second we do, all we want is to return to the carefree lives we used to have as children?

Life is cruel. It’s the only explanation.

It’s the only reason I’ve got for why I’m sitting here right now in so much pain.

Not only did I walk away from my husband and the new life we were building together—albeit fake—when I decided to come, but I’ve also given all of this away.

It’s why I needed to come.

I needed to say goodbye.

From the moment I discovered Dad hadn’t done as he promised and left this place to me in his will—or at least he didn’t without a million caveats—deep down, I knew my dream was over.

Sure, I agreed to his stupid plan with the hope that I might still get it. But I knew then that it would fail. That ultimately, I’d end up without anything.

And honestly, it’s fine. I don’t need anything from him.

This cottage, it was a dream.

But I don’t need a man to create the dream life I crave.

I don’t need a man for anything.

Unease flutters inside me.

Kingston sure made things…more bearable, though.

I thought living with him, getting closer to him, getting to know him better was going to be torture.

How wrong was I?

Sure, we’ve fought. We’ve butted heads and have some varied differences of opinions, but also…we’ve kinda just worked.

Fighting with him was fun. Tormenting him and waiting for him to crack was even better. But none of it was as good as when we collided.

Fuck. Together we were electric.

I’ve never felt like that with anyone else before.

Just one innocent touch turned my entire body to mush. It was as if he held a secret button that I never knew existed, and the second he pushed it, I just melted for him.

Ripping my eyes from the cottage, I stare down at the rings on my finger.

I told myself that I’d take them off once I settled in my seat on the plane.

But I couldn’t do it.

I convinced myself that it was because I was still on American soil. That it would be easier once I landed on the other side of the pond. That everything would be different the moment I touched down in England.

But nothing changed.

The pain, the heartache, the confusion, the fear. All of it is still there.

And now that I’m here, in the village I love so much, looking at the cottage I adore, it’s even stronger than ever.

The bitter wind whips around me again and I shiver violently, my thin jacket doing little to protect me from the elements.

Unable to sit here any longer, I push to my feet and turn back on myself, walking away from the cottage with my heart in my throat.

I return to my rental with grocery bags hanging from my fingers. I should have called a car to take me to a bigger store to get everything I need, but I don’t have the energy for that. It’ll also have to involve talking to someone and the less I do that, the better.

I’ve got what I need for now, and I figure I’ll order more for delivery. That way, I can stay locked up inside in the hope of figuring my shit out.

A bitter laugh spills from my lips.

Is it even possible to sort my shit out at this point?

Everything seems impossible.

I know running wasn’t the most mature way to deal with all this, but I knew that I’d never be able to think in Chicago.

Sure, I could have stayed in the country and locked myself away somewhere a little more local.

But I don’t want to be local. I want to put as many miles between me and all my mistakes as possible.

I hang my head as I dump the bags on the kitchen counter.

Was it all a mistake?

My head spins and my body aches with exhaustion.

I’m six hours behind London time, and I feel it all the way to the tips of my toes.

I consider my options from my recent purchases, all very unhealthy and refined carbs that would give Kingston a coronary, but it’s what I need right now.

Unable to wait for the oven to heat up for the pasta carbonara, I instead place it in the fridge and grab the massive bag of chips I bought.

With the huge bag and a bottle of water tucked under my arm, I abandon everything else in search of the bathtub I saw on the rental listing for this place.

There wasn’t a lot of choice at the last minute, but the second I saw this property, I knew it was waiting for me.

It might not be Aunt Lena’s cottage, but it’s close. It’s cute, quaint, and so very English.

The ancient staircase creaks as I climb toward the second floor, and I can’t help the small smile that appears on my lips. Everything about this place is a world away from my life in Chicago. I think that’s why I love it so much. Here, nothing matters. No one cares what my surname is, who my parents are, who I work for, or…a shudder rips down my spine as I lower my goodies to the small vanity in the bathroom…who my husband is.

My stomach twists painfully as I think of the man who’s become my everything these past few weeks.

Every single thing about him was unexpected, but almost all of it in a good way.

My breathing becomes ragged as I think about his reaction to discovering me gone.

I want to say that he’s bothered, angry even. But there is a part of me, a really fucking terrified part that doesn’t think he’ll care.

That the feelings I’ve been growing over the past few weeks have been totally one-sided.

That I’m the naive little woman who caught feelings for the man she was never meant to have.

It was a business arrangement, and I have more than enough experience with how men like Kingston Callahan operate. They will not relent until they close the deal.

Ripping my eyes from the sad and broken reflection of myself staring back at me in the mirror, I turn the bath on and pour some of the bubbles from the side into the running water.

The sweet scent of lavender and chamomile floats into the air, and immediately it makes my stomach roll.

It’s not his scent.

As quickly as I can, I turn the faucets off and drain the water, watching the bubbles go with it.

My hands tremble as I lean on the edge of the tub, memories of the baths we shared at the cabin coming back to me before my eyes find my rings again.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve shuffled across the tiled floor and I’m heaving into the toilet, attempting to purge the pain from my body.

But it doesn’t work. When I fall back on my ass, sweaty and weak, it’s worse than ever.

How is it possible to miss someone you were never meant to have?

But it’s not just Kingston I’ve left behind without warning.

It’s Miles. My team. Every single person in my life apart from Lori.

The need to call Lori and let her know that I arrived safely, to hear her tell me that I’ve done the right thing burns through me. But I don’t. I can’t.

She doesn’t know the whole truth. No one does.

No one but me knows just how serious this whole situation has become.

I wanted to tell her, but she was at work when I called to give her the heads-up and asked if she’d be willing to take care of Griz for me while I sort my shit out. I didn’t feel like I could drop a bomb that big on her over the phone. It was already bad enough that I was telling her that I was leaving and that she’d have no way of contacting me.

About thirty seconds after making my decision to book a flight and flee, I also decided that my cell would be turned off the second we took off and it wouldn’t be coming back on again.

The temptation to buy another with a new number just so I can be in touch with Lori is strong. But I know how hard it would be to lie to Kingston and Miles when they come for her. And they will, I’ve no doubt of that fact.

They know that she’ll be the one to discover my whereabouts, and they won’t relent until they’re confident she’s handed over every bit of information she has.

So, if she doesn’t know anything, she can’t hide anything.

It’ll make it easier in the long run. For her, anyway.

What would have been easier for me would be rocking up at her office with her suitcase already packed in the trunk of the Uber and dragging her with me. But that also wasn’t an option, so here I am: alone and terrified on the bathroom floor.